Mighty is Our Love
The old oak tree that I daily pass
Has stood there so majestically
What appears to be eternity
For decades hasn’t had a canopy
Of green turning to gold in the fall
Yet the old oak remains straight and tall
Buffeted by wicked wind and cold
Which has stripped it of its wrinkled bark
Now but a perch for the meadowlark
The tree is a symbol of our love
Though we will become part of the past
Our mighty love shall forever last